I got 86’d.

Tonight was the first time I’ve ever gotten fired from a job.  A restaurant job I disliked very much and was only working there for extra cash, but nonetheless, it is not a good feeling.  I think things would have gone very differently if I were more prepared for the aforementioned ‘firing.’ I was truly and embarrassingly caught off guard considering I was a perfect(ish) employee.

The conversation went a little bit like this.

Manager: Jordan, can I see you in the office please?

Me: Sure.

Manager: We’re going to have to part ways with you.

Me: Ok.

Manager: Your last check will be ready to be picked up Monday morning.

Me: See ya Monday morning.

Of course more words were exchanged, but you get the gist.  Now.. that sounds civil and adult of me, doesn’t it? Exactly – because I was unprepared and wasn’t the teeniest bit willing to fight for that job.

Had I been aware of my fate, here are some of the things that I shoulda coulda woulda said…

  • WHAT!?! You can’t fire me! I fire you! And I QUIT! Part ways!? What is that? Some Moses bullshit. I’m quitting and taking all of your janky ass donuts with me! Peace bitchessss.
  • Get revenge with bad YELP reviews and sending my roommates/friends/family in to make the waitress-who-I-hate-the-most-and-technically-got-me-fired’s life a living hell.  WITH NO TIP. (still a possibility)
  • Start crying my eyes out while sobbing about how I’ll end up homeless on the streets with no food, water or shelter if they don’t reconsider.  Ya know, just to make them feel like horrible humans.
  • Be absolutely silent and just pull a match out of my… apron? and burn that place down.

Welp, I just went out and had a beer with some friends instead.  With that said, I think I handled the situation quite maturely.. for now.

Gotta love the restaurant industry.  More turnover than Charlie Sheen’s sheets.

Servant no more,



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